An Unselfconscious Hero
by Baron Munchausen
Summary: A story set after the almost-marriage of 3.03. I still believe Anthony and Edith will get back together but like others here, I also believe he's going to have to do something pretty special to get her back with the approval of her family. So, I thought, why not make him a bit of an action hero? I don't own these characters or their setting, alas.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: A Nasty Business

Major Sir Anthony Strallan was marched to the side of the outbuildings where, surrounded by the seas of French mud, the court martial had found him guilty of desertion and cowardice. His hands were tied behind his back, and he was offered – and refused – a blindfold. He tried to stand straight and hold his chin high, to look them in the eye. He wanted to die like a gentleman.

_A gentleman? Pah! I am not a gentleman._

The Captain called out "Ready…"

_Oh, Edith! _

"Take aim…"

_How I loved you! My darling, sweet Edith!_

He closed his eyes so that his last vision on this earth should be of her.

"Fire!"

* * *

He cried out and sat bolt upright in bed. He was cold and clammy, but he was here at home in Locksley. He was alive. He caught his breath. These nightmares about the War were becoming more violent, realistic, and frequent. This time, before he had woken, he had felt the first few bullets from the firing squad tear into his chest with the same searing pain as the one that really had caught him in the shoulder.

And of course he knew what the dream meant. After deserting Edith as he had done, a firing squad was what he deserved. For the first few days after he'd broken her heart, he had actually expected her father to call him out, and Anthony would have welcomed the chance to let Robert avenge his daughter's humiliation. By putting a bullet in him, Robert would have been doing Anthony a favour, saving him the trouble of doing it himself.

But this was 1920; duels had happened in his youth, he knew, and even twenty years ago it still might have occurred but not now. He had heard nothing from Downton for three months. He knew that he would never hear anything directly from them again.

He had heard nothing from anyone else either. He had expected to be a social pariah but hearing so little news of Edith was so painful. He had asked his staff to be especially vigilant in picking up information in the village, but suddenly everyone had clammed up even around his servants. One maid had not been able to cope with this, and, within a month, had tendered her resignation.

The future? There was none for him. But that was no sacrifice if only he could be sure that Edith had recovered and was getting on with _her_ life. How he could bear all the days left to him was another matter. The nightmares, the heartache…perhaps if he left Yorkshire altogether he could be distracted enough to dull the pain a little? There was nothing left for him here but bitter regrets.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Modern Life

A month after what she still thought of as her wedding day, Edith left Downton for London. Aunt Rosamund had offered her a refuge, and Edith was grateful. Although she could keep her composure, every time she dined at _that_ table, or went through the front door, she remembered his presence, his words, his kindnesses, his beautiful smile, his lovely eyes, what it felt like to kiss his cheek. It was torture. She still couldn't go to church at all. The knowledge that he was only a few miles away gripped her heart every morning as she woke with the same temptation. _Perhaps today she could_…no, no, there was nothing to be gained from contacting him. Hadn't she somehow convinced him to marry her, to stand waiting for her at the altar, and even then happiness was denied her.

Arriving in London she began accompanying Aunt Rosamund to her social functions. It certainly helped. Her mind drifted back to Anthony, but there would always be someone who wanted to talk to her soon enough, and she was much too well brought up not to give them her full attention. The theatre, the opera, receptions, and at-homes kept them both busy. She met some interesting people, and formed some genuine friendships. There were even some prospective suitors, but their words fell dead born to her. She was as kind as she could be, but her heart lived at Locksley with him.

Yet after a few months, she felt restless again. She wanted an occupation. Rosamund thought she had the perfect solution.

"Would you like to do some charitable work, Edith dear?"

"What, like cousin Isobel?"

"I wouldn't suggest that! More administrative, working out logistical problems, something that takes brains. I have a friend whose husband is Chairman of an organisation for war widows. Their Trustee responsible for administration has just left them, and I think you'd do a good job."

Edith didn't look convinced.

"Try it, as a favour for me? Please?"

So she found herself in the office of Rosamund's friend's husband, William Hartley. The organisation collected second-hand clothes and furniture from those fortunate enough to have cast-offs, and distributed them to local churches to pass on to war widows. It seemed a very sensible set-up to Edith. Organising the collection and delivery was an ongoing headache, but it was nothing anyone who could arrange a dinner for twenty at Downton Abbey couldn't handle. She was co-opted as a Trustee immediately. She liked the paid staff; they reminded her of the tenants at Downton and Locksley in their level-headedness. She wasn't so sure of the other Trustees. Some really did want to help, some were there merely as part of their social 'duties'. And then there was William Hartley himself. She couldn't make him out. About thirty five years of age, with a confident easy manner, he had made his money in banking. He took particular care to welcome her and show her around, being politely pleasant, yet he seemed to ignore all the women staff completely, and only responded to the female Trustees if he had to.

One day in her second week, she had had a long meeting with William concerning the vans that were employed. He left and one of the secretaries approached her.

"Lady Edith?"

"Hello."

"I don't want to worry you, but I wouldn't ever let Mr Hartley get you on your own again, all right?"

"What do you mean?"

But just at that moment William suddenly returned to collect his umbrella. The girl returned to her desk, and William followed her. Then they both walked out of the office.

Edith saw the other secretaries exchange looks.

And the next time Edith went into the office the girl's desk had been cleared, and she never saw her again.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: A Strange Coincidence

She had to admit Rosamund had been right. She enjoyed the work, and felt that she was doing something useful. She still accompanied Aunt Rosamund to social occasions, and she enjoyed them, but they mattered less to her because she had other, more valuable things going on in her life. Indeed she enjoyed going out even more because it wasn't _all_ her life.

So she was particularly looking forward to a performance of _Die Meistersinger*_ at Covent Garden. They were just settling themselves when Rosamund caught her breath.

"What is it Aunt Rosamund?"

"Nothing, nothing." But Rosamund was a terrible liar. Edith looked around where her aunt had been looking and not ten feet away from her was Sir Anthony Strallan.

Edith let out a little cry; the theatre began to spin around her. And it all went black.

Anthony heard the commotion behind him and glancing over saw that a young lady had fainted. Then he recognised Rosamund, Robert's sister, and a terrible foreboding overtook him. He hurried over to help seeing as no other gentleman had yet done so. There, slumped by her aunt's side, was the love of his life.

"Lady Rosamund. May I offer my assistance?"

"Sir Anthony! If anyone else were offering I would refuse you in a heartbeat, but as it is…Can we get her outside?"

Anthony had offered his services, forgetting that his services weren't all they used to be. But this wasn't the time to give up. With his left hand, he eased Edith up until her head was just over his shoulder, and carried her with his left arm out to the foyer, followed by Rosamund.

He thought to himself, _Dammit, I'm embarrassing her, carrying her this way like a sack of potatoes._ In actual fact, the men about them had been shamed to see that, where they had wanted to sit back, not get involved, and enjoy the opera, a man with a crippled arm had volunteered, a veteran no doubt. There were red faces and discomfited looks all around.

The cooler air in the foyer brought Edith round a little. Anthony settled her down on a sofa with Rosamund helping.

"May I be of any further assistance, Lady Rosamund?"

She spoke more reasonably now. "No, thank you, Sir Anthony."

He bowed to her formally and said "Then I will bid you goodnight."

Rosamund's manners finally kicked in. "Sir Anthony, where are you staying?"

"At my club, The Athenæum."

"Edith is staying with me in Eaton Square. I hope you will forgive my shortness just now. I will write to thank you at The Athenæum."

He bowed again and left.

* * *

*For anyone who doesn't know and is interested, _Die Meistersinger_ is a Wagner opera. A large part of the plot surrounds an older man in love with a younger woman, who gives her up so she can marry a younger man.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: The Nightmare Begins

Rosamund was as good as her word and sent Anthony a note to thank him for his timely aid. But that was all he heard. Nothing from Edith. To his shame, he had secretly hoped that she had fainted because she had seen him, but it must just have been the heat in the Opera House after all.

In truth, Rosamund had not told her that Anthony had been the perfect gentleman, despite her rudeness and the physical difficulties in doing what she asked. She thought it would open up all sorts of old wounds and not telling her was for the best. Edith had not asked simply because Rosamund had not said anything, so she thought she had imagined it. She'd imagined seeing him before.

* * *

On Friday morning, Davis, her maid, came to Rosamund.

"Excuse me, my lady, but…well, it seems Lady Edith didn't come home last night."

"I beg you pardon?"

Her bed had not been slept in. She certainly hadn't been in the house when Rosamund had left for the supper party she'd attended, and the night footman hadn't opened the door to anyone except Rosamund herself returning around midnight.

Frantic, she put a call through to The Athenæum, requesting to speak to Sir Anthony. "Lady Rosamund, Anthony Strallan here. What can I do for you?"

"You can come round here to Eaton Square as soon as you can. Oh, Sir Anthony I don't know who else to turn to!"

"Lady Rosamund, please be calm"…_as if he could be calm hearing her panic like that_…"What's the matter?"

She took a deep breath. "Lady Edith didn't come home last night. I'm worried out of my mind."

He was silent. He imagined horrible things. _Focus, you idiot_, he told himself.

"What places does she frequent?"

"Ah…she has friends in Bloomsbury Square. I know she likes the Reading Room at the British Museum. There's the office, of course. No others I can think of."

"Could you track down the friends in Bloomsbury. Don't you think that is the likeliest place that she might be? I'll check the BM and her office? Please don't fret Lady Rosamund, I'm sure she is alright." Rosamund quickly agreed, gave him the address of the office, and they arranged to meet back at Eaton Square at 11 o'clock.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Torture

Edith woke in a strange room. It was gloomy, it smelled musty, and it was bare except for a chair and the bed on which she was lying. How did she get here? She remembered that she'd been to the office to meet William. They'd talked for over an hour. He kept bringing up more and more queries until the last secretary had left and it was getting dark. He said he had only one more thing to discuss and had got up from his chair to walk behind her. And she couldn't remember any more.

She got up and tried the door but it was locked. She pulled it again and again to make sure, panic rising in her. A key was put in the lock from outside. It opened and there was William looking like a jackal in a suit of formal cut.

"You're awake, my dear."

"What's this about, Mr Hartley? Where am I?"

"You are in a flat I keep for a very special purpose, my dear." With chilling coolness he took off his coat and hat and laid them on the chair.

"What purpose?" she whispered.

"Punishing immoral young girls who think they can toy with my affections."

"Mr Hartley, there seems to have been a misunderstanding…" she began.

But he pushed her roughly onto the bed. When she pursed her lips and tried to rise, he hit her fully across the face sending her spinning to the floor.

"You will do what I say." It was a statement of fact, not an instruction. She screamed for help in her terror.

"You can scream all you like, my dear. No one will take any notice of you. We are behind an abattoir here and I chose it for that reason. It is astounding what people can get used to, even the sound of animals being slaughtered, as you will be in good time, _animal_."

She was too scared to weep. But she began shaking.

He took his time undressing, and then ordered her to stand. When she did not immediately obey, he pulled her up by her hair and hit her again. He ripped all her clothes off her and forced her onto the bed again, this time keeping his hand over her mouth. Then she remembered he'd done that in his office. He'd put a cloth over her nose and mouth from behind.

"Do scream again. I liked that."

After two hours, he dressed himself and turned to go, only addressing these words to her: "Don't think for a moment that this was rape. This was _your_ fault." He locked the door behind him.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: An Unselfconscious Hero

Anthony put the receiver down after talking to Rosamund. He quickly returned to his room to fetch his coat. Something made him pause. He opened a drawer and took out his old service revolver. He hoped he wouldn't have any need for it, but he slipped it inside his coat pocket anyway. He'd brought it with him to London in case his ache for Edith became too much. Besides, he'd left his estate to Edith in his will. If he committed suicide away from there, she wouldn't have to think about it if she ever decided to live at Locksley.

It was the job of a few minutes to check the British Museum Reading Room. Just to be sure he asked one of the Duty Librarians, only to be assured that she hadn't been there that week.

The cab whisked him to the office where she worked. His arrival at the office was met by a pleasant looking woman. "May I help you, Sir?"

"Yes, I hope so. I'm Sir Anthony Strallan and I'm looking for Lady Edith Crawley. Has she been here today yet?"

"I'm afraid not, Sir Anthony. We aren't expecting her today."

"Oh." He was obviously tied up in knots about something.

"Is anything wrong, Sir?"

His voiced was strained. Desperation made him more confiding than normal. "Well, the truth is that she didn't make it home last night, and her aunt is desperately worried about her."

_So are you, chum,_ _with good reason_ she thought_._

"If she does make an appearance I'd be very grateful if you would let us…that is to say, her aunt…know."

The girls in the office all went very quiet. The one standing at the counter paled visibly.

"What is it?" Anthony urged, dread clutching at his heart.

"The Chairman, Mr Hartley, Sir. He's known for…being very controlling." she ended feebly.

"In what way?"

"The women he chooses to take against tend not to be seen again, Sir." She obviously could not bring herself to voice her fears and was choosing her words carefully.

"Oh, dear God." He felt himself beginning to fear the worst. Oh, please God, let him be in time.

"Can you give me the address of this Mr Hartley? Please, I beg you!"

She wrote it down on some paper and handed it to him.

"Thank you. Oh, thank you! Please, will you telephone Lady Rosamund and tell her that I will be back at Eaton Square as soon as I can. Try not to worry her more than she is already. And then _call the police_. Tell them everything I have just told you and all you've told me_._ Thank you so very much for your help."

He turned to leave the office, only to bump into a small, neat man. They exchanged the usual apologies, then he heard the pleasant secretary say, much more loudly than was necessary "Good morning, Mr Hartley." He span round to get a good look at the man. If this Hartley was as dangerous as she said he was, then she had risked a lot to warn him, God bless her. Then he retreated outside the office and hailed a taxi.

_I have no idea what I am doing_ he thought whilst sitting in the back of the cab waiting for Hartley to emerge. After twenty minutes he was beginning to doubt his judgement, but then Hartley came out, hailed a taxi and Anthony asked the cabbie to follow them.

They drove out towards the East End and stopped in front of a blackened building, obviously a block of dingy flats. Anthony paid the cabbie and stepped out. Hartley went in, and Anthony followed. Taking care to make no noise, Anthony climbed the stairs to the first floor. Hartley took out a key and opened the door on the landing above him. He heard Edith moan "No, no, no, no…"

Without a second's thought, he ran up the stairs and put his foot in the door before it closed. He drew his revolver and pushed the door open with his shoulder. Hartley saw Anthony and opened his mouth to protest when he saw the gun. Like most bullies he was a craven coward. He began to make placating noises while backing away, drawing Anthony further into the room. Once he was clear of the door Edith could see who it was who was challenging her tormentor. It was the man she had most hoped would come, and the person she least wanted to see her as she was now.

"Anthony!"

Anthony looked round and saw his beautiful bride, his dearest darling, covered in bruises, scratch and bite wounds, and dried blood, with a look of uncontained terror in her eyes. She was naked, covering herself as best she could with her arms. A thick mist of white hot anger settled on him.

Hartley had been waiting for Anthony to be distracted, as he knew he would be. He drew the dagger that he had intended for Edith and, raising it above his head, ran at this man who dared threaten him. Anthony saw Edith's eyes open wide in panic at the same time that he saw a movement by Hartley out of the corner of his eye. Turning, Anthony's instinct and military training took over. He fired the revolver twice in quick succession. At this range he couldn't miss, not even with his left hand. Hartley dropped like a stone at his feet, dead.

The nightmare was over.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Sorrow and Silence

"Sorrow and silence are strong, and patient endurance is godlike."

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, _Evangeline_ (1847)

* * *

There was a long pause after the crashing noise of the gunfire. Anthony looked at the body slumped before him. He'd never actually killed anyone before to the best of his knowledge. Firing at the German lines was more luck than judgment. Unlike many men of the rank of Major, he had gone over the top with his men on more than one occasion. His job was leadership, and one didn't lead by sitting in the dugout while others risked their lives. But, thank God, he had never been put in a position where he had to shoot a German at close proximity. He looked at the weapon in his hand incredulously, and dropped it as though it had burned him.

Edith saw him turn to her and noticed that he had begun to shake, imperceptibly at first, and then increasingly so. She ran the short distance to him and threw her arms around his shoulders. He responded by burying his face in her hair. They clung to each other for long moments in shock. After a few minutes he calmed enough to think clearly again. Running his hands over her bare flesh, with no other thought or feeling than an immense protectiveness, he registered that she was very cold.

"Where are your clothes, Lady Edith?"

He heard her choke back the tears. "He…he ripped them off me, and took them away yesterday."

"Shh, shh" he whispered.

_Oh dear God, what had she been through?_

He took the sheet from the bed, observing that it too was blood-stained, and wrapped it around her toga-style. Then he shuffled off his coat, and put it around her shoulders.

"Let me take you home to your aunt's."

"Thank you. Oh, thank you Anthony."

* * *

Rosamund was still pacing the Drawing Room. The policemen were asking her questions, while she looked out of the window every thirty seconds. Davis had just brought her another cup of tea when she heard the taxi. It was Strallan, and he had Edith with him.

"Thank Heavens!"

She ran downstairs with the policemen in tow.

Anthony still had his arm around Edith's shoulders partly to reassure her, and partly to keep the coat in place to protect her modesty. Rosamund ran to her and hugged her and Edith began to cry. Anthony took a few steps backwards, politely. Without letting Edith go, Rosamund looked up to him.

"Thank you. How can I ever repay you?"

"No need, Lady Rosamund."

The women went upstairs to tend to Edith. Anthony made sure they were out of earshot, before turning to what he guessed was the highest ranking policemen.

"I am Sir Anthony Strallan."

"We know who you are, Sir."

"And you are…?"

"Detective Wilson, Sir."

"Well, Detective Wilson, I wish to confess to a murder."

* * *

They were sitting in the Drawing Room. The Detective looked intently at Anthony while he haltingly told his story from speaking to Rosamund on the telephone that morning. Amazingly, he found it was only just after three o'clock. He felt he'd been on the London streets for half a lifetime. Finally, he finished and stood up.

"I assume you will want me to come to the Station? Please allow me to retrieve my coat from the ladies."

"Sir" said Detective Wilson, also standing and approaching Anthony "it is quite clear to me, as I am sure it will be to the Coroner, that you acted in self defence, and in the defence of that poor young lady."

Anthony could feel the tension in his chest suddenly release. "You don't think I…not murder?"

"No Sir." He handed Anthony his hip flask of brandy. "Take a swig, for the shock."

"I'm most grateful, thank you."

"Although I am afraid I will have to ask you to show me this…" words seemed to fail him "…this dreadful place, and sooner rather than later.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: The Old, Familiar Pillow

Rosamund and Anthony accompanied Edith home to Downton after the Inquest. The nearer they got, the more nervous Anthony became.

"When we arrive, you go in. I will go home to Locksley."

"What's the matter Sir Anthony?" said Rosamund.

"Nothing, nothing. I would just like to get home, that's all."

It wasn't all. He was scared stiff of meeting Robert, Cora, Violet, Mary…in fact all of them. The last time he'd been here had been the night before what should have been Edith's and his wedding day. People don't forget a thing like that.

"Of course" Edith said. "But at least get out and say 'hello' to Papa?"

Thankfully, he didn't have to answer because they had arrived.

He got out first and gave his hand first to Edith and then to Rosamund, and then turned to discover himself face to face with Robert. Edith was hugging her mother, and there was a gaggle of women around them.

"Sir Anthony, I believe I have you to thank for saving my daughter's life."

That took his breath away. Robert must have thought very deeply about what his first words should be.

"Ah…it was the least anyone would do" was the best he could manage. Then Robert changed the world for him.

"I want you to know that in my eyes, and in the eyes of all my family, you have more than redeemed yourself."

Anthony stared at Robert with such gratitude in his eyes that Robert knew Cora's advice had been sound.

"Come in, dear chap, come in. You must be starving after that journey."

* * *

Life returned to some semblance of normality. Anthony was invited over for dinner more often. Mary treated him with more respect. At one point she had even tried to make an ill-judged joke about Anthony being "_armed_ and dangerous" before everyone present realised how this sounded. The tense silence was broken by Anthony laughing at himself, which allowed them all to breathe again.

Edith's nightmares eased and her body healed. But she was still scared of men she didn't already know, and could not bear to be left alone with them. She was still most comfortable with Anthony around. He made her feel totally safe. He was the one who had risked his life to save hers.

One night at dinner, about two months after the events in London, she was talking to Anthony about some story he'd heard. It was amusing and she was laughing, when the room began to feel far too hot. She made excuses and got up to go to leave the table and fainted. Anthony wasn't in the right place to catch her and she fell. In all the commotion, he knew, with a chilling certainty, what was wrong. He looked at Robert and saw the same thing in his eyes.

Robert insisted that Edith see Dr Clarkson but assured his guests that this was just a precaution. Lady Edith wanted them all to continue with their dinner. After half an hour Clarkson came downstairs and discreetly asked Carson to ask Robert to see him in the Library.

"I'm sorry, Lord Grantham. Lady Edith is pregnant. I am sure you know, but it is my professional duty to remind you that, even in cases such as this, abortion _is_ still illegal."

Robert stayed in the Library after Clarkson left. His poor Edith! Why, why?! To carry a dead man's child, a dead _rapist's_ child? He began to weep softly. He had thought things were improving for her, and now…?

The door clicked open. Anthony entered softly and put a gentle hand on Robert's shoulder.

"Is it as we feared, Robert?"

"Yes" he whispered. "I don't know what to do for the best."

"What does Edith want to do?"

"I haven't seen her yet."

"The guests are leaving, Robert. Would you prefer me to go too, or would you like me to stay?"

"Stay, please. You are as involved in this as anyone."

There was a pause. Then Anthony said: "I think this is my fault."

"Good God, man, why?"

"Because if I had gone through with the wedding as I should have she wouldn't have been in London at all, none of this would ever have happened, and she wouldn't be in this mess."

"That's absurd. One can't foretell every consequence of one's actions."

Anthony made up his mind, irrevocably.

"Nevertheless, Lord Grantham, I would like your permission to ask your daughter to marry me, and I will acknowledge the child as my own."

"You would do that, to save her reputation?"

"Yes, of course. It's the very least I can do. I love her. I always have."

Robert stood open mouthed looking at the man.

"Sir Anthony Strallan, you are the most honourable man I have ever known, and I would be proud to call you my son-in-law."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Happy Ever After

After Strallan had left, promising that he would be back in the morning to talk to Edith when she was a little more settled, Robert went up to see her. Cora was with her now, he could hear. He tapped gently on her door, and Cora answered it. Seeing it was her husband, she stepped outside of Edith's bedroom.

"How is she?"

"Frantic. That monster twisted her mind to think that it was all her fault, and she thinks this is proof."

"My poor baby."

"Is Sir Anthony still here?"

"No, I sent him home. He says he'll come back in the morning."

"Pity. It would've done Edith good to see him. She also thinks he'll have nothing to do with her after this, that she's a fallen woman, and lost him for good."

"That couldn't be further from the truth. He's going to ask her to marry him tomorrow, _and_ he is saying that he will acknowledge the child as his own."

"Really? God bless him. Please, Robert, come and tell her that. I'm sure it would help."

Quietly they went back in to Edith's room.

"Oh Papa!"

"There, there, my sweet one."

"Anthony used to call me that." She dissolved into uncontrollable tears again.

"Edith, Edith, listen to me. I've just been speaking to Anthony. He guessed what was wrong with you, and came to ask if it was true. And the very moment I told him, _the very moment_ I say, he asked for permission to propose to you."

She couldn't believe it. She stared at her father, but, he thought, at least she'd stopped crying.

"Where is he?"

"I sent him home. He's worried sick about you. He says he'll be back in the morning."

Edith began crying again, but with relief.

"Now try to get some rest, my darling daughter. You want to look your best for Anthony in the morning, don't you?"

* * *

Anthony had a hellish night. His mind was full of the pain that Edith must be going through. It was so bloody unfair! Wasn't it enough to be repeatedly raped and humiliated by that unspeakable fiend without being left with a reminder of it forever after? Of course, it wasn't the child's fault either. He remembered how it used to hurt Edith that he didn't think he was good enough for her, when it was so patently obvious that she loved and wanted him. Now it would serve him right if the tables were turned, and she, with her sense of nobility, wouldn't let him share this terrible burden. But he so wanted to wrap her in his arms, kiss the tears away, tell her that he loved her even though this tragedy had happened to her, that they'd find a way through it together.

He was brought up short. Those were the words that she had used about his arm.

_Why was I so dense that it took this to make me understand?_

* * *

Carson showed Anthony into the library, and Edith followed him there soon after. What they didn't know was that Mary and Sybil were behind the screens talking about Anthony and his gallant offer at the end of the room. They had not realised who had entered the room until it was too late, so they decided to stay put and keep quiet.

"Good morning, Lady Edith. I hope you are feeling better."

"Better than yesterday evening, yes, thank you, Sir Anthony."

"I hope you don't mind. Your father confided in me…" His voice trailed off.

"Yes, I know. I'm glad. I would value your advice."

"What do _you_ wish to do, Edith?"

She paused, hoping he would sympathise with her feelings. "If it were up to me and it were legal, I would abort the baby. Even if it's the most innocent little thing in the world, everyone would remember how it was conceived. And I'm so afraid that it will turn out to be more like its father than me."

"I can understand your fears." he said to her relief. "But don't you think nurture can overcome nature, on occasion?"

"Oh, I know it does. I'm just so very scared it won't in this instance."

"Any other worries?"

She looked into his beautiful blue eyes and all her hopes and horrors flooded around her.

"No man is going to look at me again." The tears she'd kept back all morning began to flow. Anthony got up and put his arm around her shoulder to comfort her.

"Now, I'm sure that isn't true, Edith. You are young and very beautiful. There will be plenty of men who will care for you."

_I've given you the opening_, he thought. _Please, please, please give me a sign that you want me._

"I don't want plenty of men. I'm just so scared that the one man I want won't want me."

He leaned towards her. Was this really happening? Looking into her lovely brown eyes, he could see the love she nursed for him trembling somewhere at the back. With his hand shaking, he dropped to one knee, knowing everything would be alright now.

"Lady Edith Crawley, if God has been merciful to me, and _I_ am that one man, I would be honoured if you would accept my hand in marriage, my name, all my worldly goods, and the protection I would dearly like to offer you and your unborn child, whom I will acknowledge as my own."

From their position behind the screens, Sybil and Mary, weeping with joy, saw Anthony stand, take Edith's hand to bring her to her feet, put his arm around her and kiss her passionately. Edith felt him needing to hold her more tightly and to her surprise, and the almost shock of her sisters, he picked her up bodily with his left arm and pushed her against the nearest bookcase so that he could lean in to her more fully, kissing her neck and shoulders, her cheeks and hair, and her lips again. And again. And again.

Mary whispered to Sybil "I don't think we should be watching this!"

"But look at him! He's a tiger!"

"Yes, it's often the quiet ones who have the deepest depths, isn't it?"

* * *

_Epilogue_

Lady Edith miscarried the child three months later. Her and Anthony's wedding was put back to let her recover. In many ways, it was a mercy and a relief. She and Anthony could start again from the beginning. The ceremony itself was a very small affair with Travis, their families, and the staff of the two houses.

In the car back to Locksley in the dark that evening, Anthony whispered in her ear "My darling, I hope that one day, you will allow me to attempt to give you my child, but if you aren't ready…"

She put her fingers to his lips.

"Let's start tonight, shall we?"


End file.
